Reciting Shakespeare and the Meaning of Life

I'd say one of the most eyeroll-inducing parts of being a mother is dealing with the contingent of mothers that think their children are prodigies. I am surprised more 3 year olds aren't awarded the Nobel Peace Prize based on their mothers' descriptions of how advanced they are.  And for all I know, they might be.  Every kid who has a mother like this may indeed be.

However, I'm under no illusion that my child is a prodigy.  She can be exasperating, inquisitive, obnoxious, stubborn, bashful, active, surly, and tactile. She is a 3 year old.  She has strengths and weaknesses, but you know what, she's a 3 year old.

What I find amazing is meeting these mother-touted prodigies. At first I'm intimidated that this 2, 3 or 4 year old will be reciting the works of Shakespeare and telling me the meaning of life according to Nietzsche while my 3 year old is putting Playdoh up her nose and making animal noises. Thus, the stage has already been set that my child is inferior since I never brag about her accomplishments (which mainly consist of the aforementioned Playdoh and her cardboard TP roll collection, but I digress...), and her child is already superior since he/she is fluent in 12 languages and practically Mozart on a piano.

And then I meet the prodigy.  And the prodigy ends up being a 2, 3 or 4 year old normal kid who complains, makes observations, and puts Playdoh up his/her nose JUST like my kid.  So it leaves me to wonder whether I have a prodigy too, if the other mother is completely delusional about having a prodigy, or perhaps none of this really matters except that we all want to believe that we gave birth to a prodigy. 

To conclude, I want to give you a story about my little prodigy.  She was a cat for Halloween. I told her to pose in her cat costume so I could take a picture. She leans against the wall, gives me a seductive pose, and picks up her leg. Honestly she looked like she was trying out for the Pussycat Dolls or a wannabe stripper.  (Don't worry, I'll put the picture of my prodigy on FB as evidence of her prodigy-ness).

Ugh, I just don't have bragging about my child down, do I?  I can't even fake it.  I want the being-boastful-about-my-child-in-not-just-a-sarcastic-way gene!